After She Died—Part 2: The Silence Didn’t Feel Peaceful. It Felt Dangerous.

This 6-part series explores what grief really looked like for me after the death of my narcissistic mother. It’s raw, emotional, and nothing like the peace I thought would come.

Grief didn’t feel safe. It felt like collapse.

I thought I’d feel peace.

After she died, I waited for the exhale. The moment of stillness. The relief I had imagined so many times—on days when her rage echoed through every room, and even louder through every memory.

But the silence wasn’t peaceful.

It was something else entirely.

It felt dangerous.

There’s no blueprint for grieving someone who traumatized you.

When the world talks about grief, they talk about sorrow and love. About missing someone. About mourning what was beautiful and meaningful.

But what if what you lost wasn’t beautiful?

What if the person who died was the one who manipulated, humiliated, shamed, belittled, and controlled you?

What if she weaponized your vulnerability, twisted your reality, and made you doubt the most sacred parts of yourself?

What if you helplessly watched her abuse your 80 year old, defenseless father?

What if her voice in your head was still louder than your own?

There is no roadmap for that kind of grief.

I didn’t feel relief. I felt like I was disappearing.

No one really asked how I was doing.

No one really knew what I was going through—and I didn’t know how to explain it.

I couldn’t.

I felt like I was floating inside a thick, airless fog.

I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t feel.

It was like numbness, yet deeper—like emotional paralysis.

Like my body didn’t trust that the threat was really gone.

Grief can feel unsafe—especially when the danger lived in your childhood home.

My grief didn’t come with tears and memories and gentle music in the background.

It came with silence that screamed.

It came with a stillness that felt like walking into a room where you know something is waiting to hurt you.

This wasn’t grief as the world knows it.

This was my survival instinct stuck in a loop.

This was my body trying to figure out if I was finally safe… or just alone.

This is Part 2 of my After She Died series. Want to read the full series? Explore all 6 parts of After She Died HERE.

I’m not here to tell you how to heal. But I’ll show you what I did.

New here? Start here.